Mostly I’ve been working, but a couple of days ago, I visited my friends Dan and Azure on the river,
and we tore down the highway on Dan’s blaze orange Harley trike. Overhead, some skywriting was
dissipating in the clouds, and all that was still legible was the word “ICECREAM” with an “M” the
length of a few football fields. The trike used to have deer antlers attached to the front, and I’ve
fond memories of riding it shirtless to the ol’ swimming hole last summer. (Dan can be seen in
that community college art scholarship link from twelve years ago.)

In recent comments, Tita asked if I’d attended the Haarlem festival. That photo with Hansje and
Charles Berberian is from Haarlem 2004, in fact. Afterwards, I traveled with Seth and Chris Ware
to a comics event in London at the Institute for Contemporary Art. Benoit (who I met in Brussels?)
asked about the “poo shirt” featured in that photo. The design is by my dear buddy Bwana Spoons
- a prolific and inspired painter, cartoonist, toy-making gnome. He has his own shop/gallery/studio
now called GRASS HUT CORPS where you can find other fancy shirt designs. Here’s a feeble drawing
I made this Tuesday of Bwana and my other dear friend Lark Pien at breakfast.

Lark has further descriptions of our breakfast and Bwana’s store at her blog. She, too, is a
brilliant painter, cartoonist, and sometimes toy-maker. Her visit was quite inspiring. Concerning
portraits of friends, you definitely have my permission to include my Aaron drawing on your site, Rama.

Finally, Jimmy asked about tattoos. Here’s a few that you kind fans have sent my way.
Jocelyn, Tawner, Amanda, Liz, and Ciera. Please remind me who that intense and
impressive leg tattoo belongs to. I know there’s more out there, from skin flashed
at signings and conventions, so feel free to send links to motivate Jimmy.

PS… For those who asked, I won’t be making it to San Diego Comic-con. Sorry for the late notice. David Yoder, I thumbnail my books on loose leaf typing paper for easy editing. Fotini, it’s worth reading Alice Weaver Flaherty’s Midnight Disease on inspiration and block, but when I’m creatively depressed I find great solace in Henry Miller’s On Writing and Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet. That and my buddy Shannon’s advice that “the way out is through”. (Sounds like something overheard in a haze of peyote.) Chris Sweet, your story is moving. I can certainly sympathize. Aurora, too! Robin, the bulk of my hand-pain is ganglion cysts growing on all my knuckles. I spend a lot of time and money trying to get doctors to fix this. In the past, I’ve also had tendonitis which can be more easily addressed. Posture and breaks mainly. If you can’t change your posture during creative work, then change it all the rest of the time - while hanging out and eating meals, etc. And THIS works: Soak your hand in HOT water for five minutes. Then soak it in cold water for five minutes. Then hot for three, then cold for three, then hot for three, and finally cold for three. I would do this at the bathroom sink while reading a book for almost an hour. Thank you, everyone, for your comments AND for the amazing snail mail that reached my PObox this week. (Nathan, Matthew, Kim, Dan, and beautiful drawings from Sally. Plus Alec Longstreth’s latest Phase 7.) Here’s Alec and Jeffrey Brown’s recent dapper depictions of this blogger.

Joba and Vanessa asked about what European cartoonists inspired me. When I was first went to Paris in 1995 for a community college art scholarship, I scoured the bande dessinée shops and was disappointed to find that France had a glut of science fiction and fantasy books like the US has superheroes. Then I stumbled upon a series of 24 page pamphlets published by Cornelius, including David B.’s Le Nain Jaune. I constantly poured over David’s work, and included it (along with Dylan Horrocks and Tom Hart) in Chunky’s sacred stash. His epic Epileptic is translated into English and may be my favorite graphic novels ever.
The first French cartoonist whose work I was able to appreciate in English was the inspired Lewis Trondheim. We met during his US tour in 2000 and he was generous enough to invite me to visit him in Montpellier in early 2001. Here’s a sketch of his studio then. Of course, you’ll see more of him in the pages of my Carnet.

Also seen in Carnet is Blutch. I am a slobbering fanboy for his virtuoso drawing. My work has been criticized for ripping off his style; and while the influence may be apparent, I am an amateur in the shadow of this master. Unfortunately, only short pieces of his have been translated to English in the Drawn & Quarterly anthology.

Another master is Baudoin. We met at the Haarlem comics festival outside of Amsterdam. He was vibrant and full of energy, dancing and sketching everywhere. Watching the lines flow from his brush is fairly heartbreaking. We had an enthusiastic and clumsy conversation in our foreign tongues, and Baudoin drew this doodle on the left side of my sketchbook to describe the experience of moving away from his hometown of Nice. On the right, I scribbled out my own story that brought me to France.

I’ve spent enough time in Paris now that I’ll randomly run into people I know in the streets. This happened once with Charles Berberian on his birthday along the canal. Charles always impresses me with his kindness and pure “well-adjustedness”, in contrast to us neurotic American cartoonists. Lucky for all us monolingual Americans, his and Philippe Dupuy’s work has been published in two pretty volumes from Drawn and Quarterly: Get a Life and Maybe Later. Here’s Charles (right) and my Dutch publisher “Uncle” Hansje (middle) in the Netherlands.

One French cartoonist I’ll never have the chance to meet is Aristophane who tragically died at age 37. His “heaven” book Les Soeurs Zabîme and “hell” book Conte Démoniaque give me the shivers.

Other Frenchy favorites: Sfar, Christophe Blain, Nicolas De Crécy, Nina (Une par une), Capucine, Guy Delisle, Frederik Peeters (Swiss)
In Italy: Igort, Mattotti, Gipi ~ In Spain: Munoz, Max ~ In Germany: Martin Tom Dieck, Anke Feuchetenberger… and definitely seek out this book: Cargo/comics journalism Israel-Germany

More thanks to all of you for the comments and support. I’ve done a poor job of responding to any questions, so here’s to catching up on some of them this sweltering Friday the 13th evening in Portland.

Kesher asked about a Spanish Chunky Rice. Tanwer and Salakov are right. Chunky should be available in Spanish from Astiberri any day.

Ngam, Flescetto, Smoky Man, and Liz asked about potential signings in Paris, Italy, and Chicago. I’ve nothing scheduled for the rest of the year, making myself sparce on the promotion circuit. For a while, I was spending all my time signing books rather than starting on a new one, so I’m trying to stabilize at home. My drawing hand needed the rest, too, but I sincerely miss interactions with you loyal readers. That’s one reason I’m grateful for this blog. When HABIBI is finished, I’ll likely tour for a year.

Here’s a slice from a signing tour in Germany when my editor/publicist Sebastian purchased David Hasselhoff’s GREATEST HITS as our Autobahn soundtrack Frankfurt to Berlin.

Ben Bishop asked about Nickelodeon magazine. Best for new cartoonists to simply submit directly. I lucked out. While working as a graphic designer at Dark Horse comics, I snuck some of my own illustrations into ads and indicia pages. It was against company policy, but the editors of the SCATTERBRAIN humor series encouraged it. After seeing these said illos, Chris Duffy at Nickelodeon contacted me about submitting to the Nick COMIC BOOK. At first, I focused on one panel gags and later graduated to full-page comics.
Editors Chris Duffy and Dave Roman are glowing heavensent angels of the comics industry. They are almost solely responsible for economically fueling me through the production of Blankets via monthly comics and illustration gigs. Here’s a peek at a new millennium cover for them and the preliminary ballpoint pen roughs.

Ngam ~ My birthday is actually September 21, 1975 as seen on the CARNET passport.

Emily asked if I still believe in God and Jesus, but I think I’ll defer that question for this forum. Jesse Cohn pondered self-nurturance versus self-denial in Rumi’s poetry, which is a juicy and exciting topic, but too much for tonight’s typing. Open discussion for both!

Sorry for the late response to Maria asking about the Cure and Tom Waits references in BLANKETS chapter titles. Yup, you got them right.

Jaybird asked about my HABIBI working day.
The entire book was storyboarded in thumbnail form. The first draft was completed in summer 2005, but then I tinkered with it and got lost an insecure creative block until a late 2006 revision. Except for much of Carnet, I definitely pencil before I ink. It’s a great stage for working out compositions, but it often hurts the integrity and fluidity of the final line. In the future, I hope to draw a book with ink straight to paper like many of the inspiring European cartoonists, but for now, I’m not “masterful” enough to get away with that on HABIBI. Of the six hundred pages, I feel fairly good about the first two hundred, the second third will require some editing, and the last part of the book will likely be tossed out and rewritten. I haven’t yet “solved” the story for the main characters, because I haven’t sorted out the same issues in my own life. Here’s a picture of me living inside a tree.

Just home from Kentucky (not Ohio, after all) and grateful to bike around peaceful Portland again.
While in Kentuck’, my bro and I made sure to sample local culture, including the Creation Museum - a gigantic museum which presents Biblical theory as factual science. It’s like a Right-wing Christian Jurassic Park with animatronic dinosaurs frollicking alongside Adam and Eve.

Above: A collaborative sketch by my brother and me, humans and dinosaurs coexisting, Noah’s flood separates the continents,
and real-life kids voyeuristically study Adam and Eve’s intimate bath.

Below: Here’s a glimpse of Eden from the pages of HABIBI. Not an especially interesting page, but I happened to scan the in-progress pencils.

Dear blog-readers, Thank you for all the amazing comments. My apologies for not getting around to responding, but I’ve been focused on the new book. As even my best friends know, I’m lousy with correspondence, but maybe at some point I’ll get a handle on that aspect of blog-managing. Today, I leave for a cousin’s wedding in Ohio for four days, so I wanted to leave you with something — a handful of photos from that high school era, approximately 1993 in rural Wisconsin.

From left to right, top to bottom: My brother and I traversing the highway near our home. The view from the backyard skate-ramp (which I chose to omit from the book). (Note: yoda shirt.) My bro, our neighbor Shawn (aforementioned paper-provider), and me with cow-themed fashion. The sign for my hometown: population 1,200 at the time. An angst-ridden portrait (taken at church).

In response to one of the most frequently asked of questions, here’s my list of “art tools”. My apologies to those
bored with shop-talk… I pencil with any ol’ HB pencil — these “Berol Turquoise” will do. Erasing courtesy of
“Staedtler Mars Plastic”. The text lettering in the balloons is casually dashed off with a .05 or .08 MICRON felt-tip.
For inking, I dunk a watercolor brush in a well of India ink - the old fashioned way. SPEEDBALL “Super Black” makes
me happy with its soulful darkness. CHUNKY RICE and BLANKETS were inked up with these cheap Winsor Newton
Cotman III number twos — a synthetic/sable blend. With my new book, Farel Dalrymple turned me on to this
upgrade brush — the Raphael series 8404 size number four. It’s quadruple the price, but it’s debatable if my line
has improved at all. While on the go, the Pentel “pocket-brush” is certainly handy. Another frequently asked question;
“How do you get that dry-brush effect?” Answer: Vellum finish bristol paper. Its toothiness combined with an abused brush
caked up with gunky ink.

The dimensions of my pages has fluctuated plenty. The live art area of CHUNKY RICE is 10.5″x14″ reduced for print a whoppin’ 48%. That’s admittedly too much shrinkage. While all the details are sharpened in the reduction, some of the integrity of the original is lost. The Pantheon edition of the book is smaller than the Top Shelf one, but the details are sharper, because I finally scanned the pages at 1200dpi from the original art. The older edition was simply 600dpi scans from Kinko’s photocopies! BLANKETS is drawn far smaller and reduced less — 7″x11.25″ / 70%. HABIBI is in-between; 8.75″x12.5% reduced 63%. (Sorry, this isn’t metric!)

One last goody. On this page of BLANKETS, you can see a paste-up correction. Just a slice
of typing paper glued atop the bristol.

When I was approximately eight years old, I drew these panoramic winterscapes
on the backsides of computer spreadsheets (from my friend Shawn’s dad) stapled together.

I’m posting them here because of their snow-infused childhood connection to BLANKETS. Other themes include snowmobiles, superheroes, and the below image which I fear depicts some sort of molestation — not sure if the obese man or the child in his lap is the perpetrator (reflecting my childhood confusion), but fortunately a flying spandex-clad hero has intervened before the pants came off.

In high school, I had a falling out with comics — trying to replace my nerdy junior high obsessions of comicbooks ands rpgs and star wars with skateboarding and girls and Christianity. At age 16, I met Kurt Halsey at art camp - the snarkiest skater of the bunch - and he made comics cool for me again. Upon graduating, Kurt and I collaborated on my first official mini-comic - TWO-WAY COMIC MACHINE - it was one of those flippy dealies, half his work / half mine. He drew my cover, I drew his. I worked at the local newspaper as a low-level ad stylist and used the small “brochure” press to print it. We couldn’t sell the things at the time … I remember driving through the streets of Milwaukee, tossing handfuls out the window — proselytizing or littering depending how you look at it. Excerpted here is the story of Lionel Piglet.
1 2 3

4 5 6

The photo on the left is the oldest I could find — 1997 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin — the two of us looking respectively baggy-trousered and limp-wristed. Somewhere off Humboldt Street. At the time, I worked as a laser light show animator at Discovery World children’s museum. The second photo is just short of ten years later — the small gang that gathered to celebrate my 31st birthday — Vinh, myself, Kurt, Taizo from the nearby okonomiyaki place, and Alena displaying the amazing memoir “A Weasel in my Meatsafe”.